


Remembering

by hurricanedelta



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 22:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3094196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurricanedelta/pseuds/hurricanedelta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're sure it's him. It has to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembering

You think of Kaneki at the strangest times.

You pass bookstores and you remember how animated he got when discussing Takatsuki Sen’s novels, no matter how dark they were in context. You see a black haired man drinking coffee and immediately wondering if he’s taking care of himself – drinking and eating properly, because he always had a bad habit of forgetting when he was too upset, or mad. You overhear someone with quite a unique speech pattern, and think of how Kaneki would think that was so interesting. You see an eyepatch and think of how he used to adjust his uncomfortably whenever you looked him in the eye, desperately trying to make you not notice the fact that he was a ghoul. Whenever you see or hear something about ghouls, and your mind wanders into a daze, wondering if Kaneki is okay.

You don’t know why you’re still thinking of these things, it’s been three years since you last saw him in that sewer. Kaneki didn’t go home with you, and you wanted desperately to take him with you, but when you heard sloshing around you, you had to leave him behind, because you knew he could take care of himself (he’s always had to), and you knew you’d get yourself killed if you didn’t flee.

You regret it.

You regret it because Kaneki never came back to you. You regret it because Kaneki couldn’t take care of himself, not in the state he was, he never could. He always had you to lean on, and you left him behind. You left him for dead, and you regret it so much.

You go about your regular life the best you can, though.  You have your job – working in a pizza shop. It’s not much, but it gets the bills payed, especially since you don’t have your student loans anymore. You finished university the previous year, but you have no idea what to do now. You have your degree ( _Bachelor of Social Science_ ), but you’re as clueless as you were before you started university – you have no idea where to go, what you want to do, all that’s changed is you have a fancy bit of paper that managers go for.

You haven’t heard from Nishio-san in a long time, the last time being on your graduation, when he congratulated you before making a hasty exit. It confused you, but you assumed it had something to do with ghoul business – he had been acting quite odd, and had been looking unusually healthy the weeks beforehand, so maybe he was doing something where food wasn’t easily available? Or possibly he could be fighting, and need to be able to heal easily. But still, it’s been about a year, and it wasn’t like he hated you (at least he didn’t show it).

You also hadn’t seen Touka-chan in a while. Considering the fact Anteiku shut down, it wasn’t surprising that you hadn’t seen her, since you have to get your coffee elsewhere now, but it’s been years, you should’ve bumped into her at least once. Unless she had moved out of the ward, or had… No, she’s alright. It’s just coincidental. You wonder if she had found a new place to work - a coffee shop, because she was good at her job. You hope she did.

You walk the same pathway to work every day – passing by the largest bookstore in the 20th ward, popping into whichever of the many coffee shops of that took his fancy that day, ordering a cappuccino ( _2 sugars, to go, please_ ) and barely making it on time. This then proceeds to your boss telling you for seemingly the millionth time that if you are even a minute late, your job will be on the line. You tell him the same thing you always do – _have I ever been late, Sir?_ – and he just grumbles and tells you to get to work. You grin cheekily, and slide on your cap, serving customers in your usual way, a fake smile plastered on your face.

Around eleven is the busiest time. People come in and pick up their orders, and there is always a small line-up. You go on lunch at half past twelve, for fifteen minutes, before coming back out and manning the check-out once again. By that time, the line has gone down, and there are far fewer customers. This is your time to think, your time to rest, and stop smiling. Of course, whenever there is a chime you plaster it back together, but the second they’re gone, you deflate.

You wonder if you would be so deflated so easily if Kaneki was still around.

There was a chime, and you pushed the thought out of your mind. You look up and smile, and when you saw who it was you felt your breath be taken away. Actually, it was more like someone had a vacuum cleaner down your throat, and was sucking out the air quickly, and roughly pulling it out, leaving him to cough and splutter.

The man came to the counter, “Hi, I’ve got an order under the name of Sasaki Haise.” You smile, and look down at the screen in front of you, tearing your eyes away from the grey eyes you know so well, yet you don’t, because they don’t have that _look_ in them. They don’t have any sort of recognition in them, and his voice doesn’t have that fondness in it. It seems happy enough, but it’s not _his_ voice.

“Yep, that’s 2000 yen.” you say, and he holds his hand out. You take the money, putting in the register, and grinning, “Just a sec, I’ll grab it for you.” He nods, and you turn away, your polite smile drops, and you let out a shuddering breath as you grab the two pizzas off the rack. You pull them out of the bag, and slide it back in, before taking them out to the front. You go around beside him, holding the pizzas in front of you.

“Here you are!” you say, your smile back. You can tell it didn’t reach your eyes. They don’t do that anymore. He smiles kindly and widely and takes them from you.

“Thanks,” he nods, “Say… have we met somewhere before?” he asks, and you felt your heart drop, and you shrug.

“Maybe.”

“You just…” he shakes his head, and sighs, “You seem familiar, that’s all.”

You feel sick. “Who knows, we could’ve done.” He cocks his head to the side.

“I feel like I know you for some reason, I just- I can’t remember,” his voice was frustrated, “It’s like I know you, and I just- I feel- It’s frustrating not remembering.” He looked at you, his smile sad.

“I can imagine,” you grin crookedly, “Tell you what, you give me your number and I’ll call you, see if you can figure it out.” He nods, and nods.

“Can you hold these for a second, then, please?” You take them, and watch as he jots down a string of numbers, and his name, before putting it on the top of the boxes. He takes them, and you grab the piece of paper. “Call me whenever, I don’t mind, uh….”

“Hide. My name is Hide,” you tell him, and he nods.

“Okay Hide, I’ll be expecting it!” he opens the door to the shop, and looks back, a smile on his face, “Thanks again!” You watch as he leaves, and you look down at the piece of paper. You slide it into your jeans, and you feel your shoulders sag, and you turn and lean against the counter, your eyes shut and burning.

You’re sure its him. It has to be.


End file.
